


It Wasn't Ever About the Fish and Chips

by kho



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Depression, Episode Tag, F/M, Feelings, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kho/pseuds/kho
Summary: He laughs, and the sad thing is, Danny thinks this is probably what actually passes for amusement to Steve these days.  This is probably the most genuine laugh he’s had since getting out of the hospital.  It hurts to hear because it’s only so deep, doesn’t reach his eyes, doesn’t radiate that big old giant heart of Steve’s that Danny’s come to know and love.  (set post 07x02)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to get them to have this conversation since the first ep aired this season and then ep 2 happened and gave me an entrance, and ... I meant to have it done before 3 but I didn't quite make it!

The pub hasn't changed at all in the past 13 years.  Dark green and red decor, comfortable couches, bar section filled to the brim with people.  He picks a booth secluded in the corner, and as he looks at the table top he swears he can see his and Rachel's initials in the waxy surface. 

_ “Daniel,” she’d hissed, casting a look over her shoulder as he took a knife to the nicked and dented surface. “What are you doing, you are not meant to be doing that!” _

_ Danny had grinned up at her making quick work with the crudely sketched letters spelling DW + RW and then draws a heart around it.  “Let it be known by your countrymen, Rach. When Danny Williams comes to London he marks their tables and steals their women!” _

_ She rolls her eyes and grabs the Swiss Army knife from him and folds it up, slipping it into her purse.  “You utter imbecile,” she says, but her cheeks are flushed happily and a smile plays around the corners of her lips.  “And you did not steal me.  I came willingly of my own accord.” _

_ “Okay but,” Danny says, lowering his voice and leaning forward, taking her hand in his and winding their fingers together.  “Can we tell them I did anyway?” _

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

Danny looks up and blinks.  “What?  What's a bad idea?”

“This, Danny, this is making you sad and I don't  _ like it  _ when you're sad,” Steve says, chest puffed out, shoulders up high, like he's looking for a fight.  Gonna beat away the demons of Danny's painful, failed marriage through sheer force of will and McGarrett determination.  It’s endearing and it brings a smile to Danny’s face.  “Can't we go somewhere else?  We can still get fish and chips but…. not here.”

“I'm not sad,” Danny says, pointing to his face.  “This isn't sad, this is nostalgic.”  He reached over and pats Steve’s arm.  “I'm ok, but thanks for worrying.”

There's no initials in the table.  This isn't even where they'd sat.  It’s just memories flooding all of his senses.

“I was thinking.  Maybe tomorrow we go see the London Dungeons,” Danny says, grinning at Steve, hoping maybe his good humor would somehow get Steve to relax.  “You’d love that.”

“Tomorrow,” Steve says, frowning.  “I wasn’t planning on still being here tomorrow.”

Danny frowns back.  “Aw, come on, babe.  Let’s just take one for us, huh?  Just a few days.”

Steve sighs and scrubs at his face, looking around.  “We’re leaving right after.”

Danny rolls his eyes.  “Such an enthusiastic response, Steven.  I’m glad to see you’re so looking forward to it.”

Steve’s lip twists in a half smirk.  “It’s dungeons Danny.  Why is that exciting?  I’ve seen  _ actual dungeons _ , ya know?”

“When did you--”

This time, the smirk is real.  “Classified.”

“Oh I could beat you about your head for your fucking…. Classified,” Danny grumbles, but he grins because this ground is familiar, and he’s happy to be back on it.  “Classify this,” he says, and flips Steve off.

Steve actually laughs at that.

They order their fish and chips and settle in to wait for their orders.  Danny’s practically salivating for a London Porter or maybe a Bass Ale, or really, honestly,  _ any  _ kind of beer.  Hell, he’d drink Coors right now if that’s all they had, and under normal circumstances he’d rather drink his own piss than Coors.  

_ “Oh God, what is this?  Oh, you Americans cannot brew a good beer, Daniel, you really can’t,” Rachel said, Coors in one hand and his hand in the other.  Her nose is wrinkled adorably and he leans over and kisses it and then her mouth, tast _ _ ing the remnants of the substandard lager. _

_ “That’s okay.  You can’t brew a cup of good coffee,” Danny says, grinning.  “And you think  _ _ tea _ _ is somehow an adequate substitute.” _

“There’s also a Maritime museum. You’d like that too.  You’re such a nerd for those boats, all your little kid miniaturized battleships in your office.”  Looking up at towards Steve he sees Steve watching him with a calculating look, fingers wrapped around his glass of ice water and fingers drumming on the sweat beads on the glass.   “Ya alright?”

Steve leans back in his chair and nods, shrugging.  “Just wondering if you were gonna tell me.”

“Tell you…”  Danny trials off, motioning for Steve to continue.

“What we’re doing here,” Steve says, motioning around the bar. “Why you wanna stay so bad.  Making plans for us.  We’ve got… Danny there’s a serial killer going around town, breaking into  _ my fucking house _ and you …. You wanna take a nostalgia trip?”

Just like that, Danny’s good mood -- or what passes for one these days, which really just involves less cursing and less headaches --  disappears.  He’d known Steve would do this.  He’d known but he’d tried anyway, because if Danny’s been in a pit of moroseness, Steve’s a black hole of one.  Steve’s black extends outwards for miles, cold stretching through Danny’s bones and making Danny’s body ache like it had when he was five and jumped off the boardwalk into the water when it was 30 degrees because Matty said he wouldn’t.

Steve isn’t having a good time. He’s not relaxing.  He’s not kicking back, grinning, laughing.  Steve is annoyed, and pissy, and on edge.  Just like he has been since the hospital.  Since the entirety of their time in recovery. Since, if Danny’s really gonna be honest here, before.  Since Catherine.

Towards him, anyway.  Always towards Danny.  Not to Kono, or Chin, or Lou.  Always Danny.  Only Danny.

He says a quiet thanks as the waitress brings their orders over.  After a moment he clears his throat.  “You know, sometimes you just gotta hit pause on your life.”

Steve snorts.  “Pause.”  He laughs, and the sad thing is, Danny thinks this is probably what actually passes for amusement to Steve these days.  This is probably the most genuine laugh he’s had since getting out of the hospital.  It hurts to hear because it’s only so deep, doesn’t reach his eyes, doesn’t radiate that big old giant heart of Steve’s that Danny’s come to know and love.

“Yeah, man, pause,” Danny says, glaring down at his fish and chips.  Truth is, he could give a damn about the fish and chips.  This wasn’t ever  _ about _ the damn fish and chips.  He waved his fork.  “Reset.  Reboot the computer.  Turn the shit off and just let it sit for a minute.”

Steve snorts again and it just sounds so bitter and condescending and wrong and it’s like nails on a chalkboard to Danny.  “Reboot?  Danny, you’re not a laptop.”

“I need a break, Steve,” Danny finally snaps, looking up at him, fork frozen halfway over the fish.  “ _ We _ need a break.  Okay?  We just need a fucking  _ break _ .”

Steve looks at him, his eyebrows raised in surprise.  “You alright man?”

“No,” Danny yells, throwing his fork down. “No, I’m not!”

Steve frowns and looks around at the other patrons, who aren’t even looking at them.  “You wanna tell me what--”

“B.  R.  E.  A.  K,” Danny spells out, spitting the letters out.  “Or I swear to God, Steve, I swear to God I’m gonna go home, pack up my desk, and find another fucking job.  I’m tired of this shit, I’m tired of it.”

Steve leans forward at that, face suddenly concerned and not annoyed, not pissed, not hurt.  Confused, and concerned.  “Don’t.  Don’t do that, don’t threaten me with…  Where the hell did that come from? Danny we just had a  _ month long break _ when we were both convalescing in the hospital!”

Danny takes a breath and swipes a hand over his face.  “Eat your fish.”

“Danny.”

“Just eat,” Danny says, and stuffs a big bite of fish in his mouth.  He remembers it being light and flaky and perfect when he and Rachel had been here.  Today it’s heavy and dense, or maybe that’s just his mood.  “Please?  Please just eat.”

Steve picks up a piece of fish, breaks off a bit and stuffs it in his mouth. 

“It wasn’t a threat,” Danny says quietly a few moments later.  Steve’s halfway through his meal, always eating faster than Danny thinks is healthy.  He stares down at the sauce as he drenches his fish with it.  “I wasn’t threatening to leave.  It’s just…  It’s been on my mind.  To maybe see if.  If there wasn’t something.  It’s mostly fantasy.”

Steve leans back in his chair, chewing.  “You a college professor, me a balloon animal artist?”

“Yes,” Danny says, grinning and looking up, laughing when he sees Steve’s amused expression.  “Yes, God, doesn’t that sound amazing after this? After all this… just all of this everything we’ve been dealing with, the shit we’ve had heaved at us… You making balloon poodles and me making grad students cry?”

“Set up a booth near Kamekona’s shrimp truck maybe,” Steve says, grinning and looking blankly off into the distance.  “Take advantage of the haoles on vacation.  $3 per poodle.  $6 for a hat.”  He holds his hand out.  “$10 for a giraffe.”

Danny laughs, settling back in his seat.  “Love a giraffe.”

“I know you do,” Steve says, winking at him.  “That’s why yours is free.”

“Just a couple days, huh?  Can we just stay for a couple days?  We deserve it.  We were barely out of the hospital before we were on a case running on rooftops, you splitting your chest wide open again--”

Steve rolls his eyes.  “Here it comes, here comes the  _ my liver, don’t be ungrateful  _ shit again.”

“No,” Danny grits out, his hands darting out angrily.  “No here it doesn't come, Steven.  Because I'm tired.   I'm tired of it.  I'm tired of life kicking us in the teeth every chance it gets.”  He pauses and takes a breath, trying to calm himself down.  It doesn’t work that well.  “I'm tired of case after case after case of--  Just, when the fuck ever are we gonna get a god damned break?  And I'm tired of bitching at you to take care of yourself.  I'm tired, Steve. I'm just so fucking tired.”  

He can see the moment Steve gets what this really is.  Somewhere between the first mention of being tired and the last, he finally understood what Danny was saying.  “Hey, Danny--”

Danny closes his eyes.  “I just wanted one day. One day of…. not this!”

He can hear the chair creak as Steve leans forward but doesn’t open his eyes.  “If you’re so tired of bitching then why keep doing it?”

“Because I love you, you caveman,” Danny blurts out, feeling a hot flush crawl up his neck as he sees the barman looking over at them.  “I love you, and you keep throwing yourself in the God-damn path of every bullet that's constantly flying past us and--”

“And what,” Steve spits back, hands flying out to punctuate his annoyance.  “What?  I said thank you for your liver, what do you want?”

“-- and one of these days you’re gonna die Steve,” Danny plows ahead, ignoring him.  “One of these days you’re gonna throw yourself in front of just that exactly right bullet and I ain't gonna be able to give you half of my nothing because it's too fucking late and I just don't even know what else I have to give.” 

“Hey.”

Danny shakes his head, jerks his hand back as Steve reaches forward to put his on top of it.  “That's not what this day is supposed to be, none of this was supposed to--  This was supposed to be me and you, relaxing.”  He takes a deep breath and blows it out, pushes the remnants of his fries forward.  “My one year anniversary was amazing, okay? It was amazing and it was the happiest we ever were, me and Rachel.  And later, we fucked it all up and I lost her and Gracie and, fuck, Charlie too for that matter, but that day.  That day was amazing.  A respite.  A pause in the everyday bullshit that turned our arguments about nothing, that used to be something we thought was foreplay, into little tiny knives we used to cut each other open every day on and…”  He breaks off, looks at Steve.  Locks eyes with him.  “And I don't want that to be us.”  

“It won’t,” Steve says.  “Hey.  It won’t, Danny.”

“It already  _ is _ , don’t you see that,” Danny says, slumping back into the chair.  “We’re already-- Hey, it took us six years to get here, I guess that’s an accomplishment, but.”  He huffs out a breath.  “I just wanted a few days to remind you that we’re… we’re friends Steve.  I’m not the enemy.”

Steve frowns.  “I never said you were the enemy.”

“You don’t even know you’re doing it do you,” Danny asks, looking in confusion at his partner.  “The snapping.  The blame.  The bitterness you throw at me on a daily basis.  Honest to god, if I had to put money down on it I would swear you’re pissed at me for giving you my liver.”

Steve rolls his eyes.  “Danny.  I said thank you.”

“Those are words, Steve,” Danny says quietly.  “And I’m not asking you for a thank you.  I don’t even care if you ever say it and mean it as anything other than as a means to shut me up, I just want you to… I want you to be happy.   _ I  _ want to be happy.  We deserve to be happy, Steve.”

“And traipsing around the London Dungeons is gonna be that magic get better pill,” Steve asks, tilting his head to the side.  “One, two, three days of vacationing in London is just supposed to make me feel better?  That I almost died, and I’m alone?  I’m supposed to walk around London and forget the fact that my best friend put his life on the line not once but twice, when he shouldn’t have had to do it at all. For me.  I could fucking kill you myself, Danny.”

“You’re not alone, you great big idiot,” Danny says.  “And I could kill you too, just for thinking you are.  You have  _ us, _ Steve. You have Kono, and Chin, and Lou.  And me, always.”  Danny pauses, wants to jab his fork into Steve’s head just to make sure the words he’s saying penetrates that thick skull of his.  “You  _ always  _ have me.”

“I want…”  Steve shuts his eyes closed, tightening his jacket around him and hugging his arms to his body.  “I woke up in that hospital Danny and.”  He blow an annoyed breath out of his nose, his eyebrows punched together.  “You had Grace, and you had Charlie, and I… I had…”

“Me, you had me!  And  _ you _ had Grace and Charlie too!”

“No.  I don’t.  Not really.”  Steve shakes his head.  “Not like you do.  I’m alone.  I’m… always alone, Danny.  I just keep winding up  _ alone _ .”

“The sad part is you don’t realize you don’t have to be,” Danny says softly, looking away.  “You could have all that.  What you’re talking about.  The someone to wake up to, to go to bed with.  You already have it, you just don’t know it.”

Steve rolls his eyes.  “Yeah, I got my Ohana, but Danny… I’m… I’m forty.  I’m forty, and I don’t.”  He blows out a breath.  “Who am I leaving behind to carry on my legacy when I die?  Whose life is really gonna be affected when I die?  I’m asking.”

“You’re not listening,” Danny says, voice low and rough.  “You  _ have it _ .  Everything you want, it’s yours if you just--”

“If I what?  Stop pushing Lynn away?  Go after Catherine?  Forgive her for lying to me?  What do I have?”

“Yeah.  Sure.”  Danny nods, leaning back in his seat, resting his head on the top of the booth cushion and closing his eyes.  “Or me.  You could have me.  If you wanted me.  You’ve already got me.  You’ve had me for years, Steven.  You’ve had me since…  since Book Em Danno, you’ve had me.  You’re just too stupid and blind to see it.”

A fork clatters against the plate and Danny grins bitterly up at the ceiling.  

“You.”

“Yeah.  Me, pal,” he says, raising his head to look at him.  “Me, sitting right here.  Riding shotgun to all of your crazy and all of your stunts.  All of your mood swings and self-destructive behavior.  Your angry outbursts and your biting insults, and I stick around.  I stay.  I sit  _ right here _ and… and you don’t even see it.”

Steve swallows the last bit of his food and blinks dumbly at Danny.  “So this was…  this is…”

“Me trying to take care of you, in whatever way you’ll fucking  _ let me _ .”  Danny opens his hands and waves them around.  “This is me, being all the things you say you don’t have.”

“I don’t.”  Steve blinks again and shakes his head, like he needs to clear it.  Like he’s drunk and not hearing things properly except there’s been no alcohol at all and there won’t be for months.  “I didn’t.”

“Look it’s not your fault, I fought it for a long time,” Danny says, reaching over and plucking up a fry.  “It doesn’t matter, I just want you to know that…  You have it.  In me.  Whether you want it or not.  So don’t ever feel like you’re alone, because you’re not.  You’re just not recognizing it for what it actually is.”

“Danny.”

“Do you.”  He stops and collects himself.  “You have no idea what it did to me, watching you bleed out,” Danny admits, rolling his eyes up to look at the ceiling to cut the tears off before they come.  Because they will if he lets them.   “I thought you were gone.  Dead.  I thought, I’m gonna land this plane in the God damn sand, and you’re still gonna die on me.  And it… it fucking wrecked me.  And for you to keep jumping off tall buildings and running towards bullets.”

“I’m really not hellbent on getting myself killed, Danny.  You keep accusing me of it, but I’m not.” 

Danny shakes his head, still not opening his eyes, swallowing past the nearly ever present lump that lodges in his throat when he thinks about that day.  “Well.  That doesn’t change the facts.  I'm terrified of losing you, and you’re not doing me any favors in that department.” 

Danny flinches only slightly when Steve slides into the booth seat next to him, his knee knocking into Danny’s, but he doesn’t look over.  “I'm not going anywhere,” Steve says quietly. 

“I can't handle it Steve.  Not if you actually…   So I keep bitching and harping and nagging because.”  He takes a deep breath and chews on his lip for a moment, gathering himself.  “Because I don't know what the fuck I would do if I lost you.  And you keep, you keep doing this shit like you have nothing to lose, and God…  what about what  _ I  _ have to lose huh?  What about  _ me _ losing  _ you _ , huh?  Does that ever cross your mind?”

Steve’s hand is warm on Danny’s forearm when he places it there, fingers wrapping around it.  “It's my job, Danny.”  

“No,” Danny says on a laugh, shaking his head and opening his eyes again to look at Steve.  “No, see, there's the job, ok?  There's the job and the hazards and risks that come with it and then there's what you do.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don't just do the job, Steve.  You--  The job does you, and maybe you don’t care if you live or die but other people do.  I do.”  Danny takes a deep breath and shrugs.  “So today.  Today, this, fish and chips, was supposed to not be about the job.  No worry.  No muss no fuss, just fish and chips.  And conversation. And spending time with one of my favorite people.” 

“Ok, Danny.” 

Danny looks at him, raising a dubious eyebrow.  “Just... ok?”  

Steve’s hand travels down Danny’s arm to where he’s clawing into his own thigh, Steve’s fingers wrapping around it, prying it loose, turning it over to lace his fingers through it.  “I'm saying I'll try.”

Danny arches an eyebrow at him.  “Okay? You’ll try? As in, I'll try-- to shut you up?

Steve smiles and reaches over to touch Danny’s face, wipes away a tear that must’ve fallen without Danny realizing it.  “I'll try because I love you too.” 

Danny swallows at the contact, unable to rip his eyes away.  “That never stopped you before.” 

Steve grins.  “That was before.” 

Danny laughs slightly.  “Before what?”

“Just… before,” Steve says, leaning in just a bit, maintaining eye contact as he pulls out his phone.  He hits a few buttons and brings it to his ear.  “Kono.”

Danny frowns.  “What are you--”

“Hey, yeah, listen, Danny and I are gonna stay in London a few days.  Three or so. Maybe more, I don’t know.  We uh… I think we just need a break.  Yeah.  Hey listen I’ll fill you in later.  Okay.  Keep us updated though, alright?”

Danny points at him as he puts his phone away.  “Did you just really do that?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Steve says instead of answering.  He stuffs his phone back in his pocket and stands, rapping his knuckle against the table.  “Find me something cool to do at dusk in London, Danny.”

+

“I knew you’d be into it,” Danny says, giving Steve a sidelong glance.  “But I admit I’m a bit disturbed at  _ how _ into it you are.”

“Shh,” Steve says, gesturing at their tour guide, who is giving Danny a pissy look.  “It’s Jack the  _ Ripper _ , Danny.  It’s  _ fascinating _ .”

By the time the tour was over Danny was wishing he’d had a heavier coat on because it was nightfall and the air was crisper then he’d expected it to be. They walked amicably back towards the hotel, about two miles from where the tour had ended and when they got to a split in the road Danny went right and Steve went left.

“This way, babe,” Danny says, laughing and tilting his head down the cobblestone path.

“No, I wanna… I wanna take you somewhere, Danny.”

Steve walks backwards, hands stuffed in his coat pockets, until Danny catches up and then they fall in sync.  “Where are we going?”

Steve just shakes his head and keeps walking and Danny studies the silhouette of him, jaw clenched just slightly, back ramrod straight.  He can’t help but feel let down, because he’d thought finally.  Finally Steve had relaxed into this, finally Steve was enjoying himself.  He had loosened up so much during the Jack the Ripper tour, and now right back here where they started from.

They walked in stiff silence for another half hour until they came upon the riverfront, well lit and bustling with people.  They stop at a food cart and Steve buys two hot chocolates.   Passing one to Danny he motions to an empty bench a few yards away and they make their way to it.  

Sitting down Danny turns to say something but instead is caught off guard by Steve with his eyes closed, legs out one ankle over the other, arms hooked back, elbows on the back of the bench.  He looks relaxed and happy, serene.  Quiet and zen somehow, when only moments before he’d been just the opposite.  So instead of asking, Danny just sips at his hot chocolate and settles in next to him in companionable silence.

Later, so much later Danny’s not even sure how long it’s been, Steve says, “It’s soothing.”  He smiles at Danny’s confused expression.  “The water.  The water has always been soothing to me.”

Danny nods.  “Even in London?”

“In London.  North Korea.  Japan.  Afghanistan, Iraq, South Africa.  It’s…”  Steve shrugs, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees.  “It connects everything.  Everything’s different, the people are different, the language is different, the customs are different, the smell…. Even the  _ air _ is different, but the water... “  He looks over at Danny.  “That water is the same water here that it is in Hawaii.  In LA where Mary is.  It connects everything.  Continents shift, breaks lands apart, separates people, but water… water is everywhere.”

“Huh,” Danny says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.  Steve and his love affair with the water is about as intrinsic to him as Danny’s hatred of it is.  “Yeah I guess it is.”

“I came here with Cath about eight years ago,” Steve says after another long pause.  His hands are grasping the hot chocolate between his legs and he’s staring out at the river.  “Might even be this very bench.  Who knows.  We both were stationed here and it was one of those times when we both had leave at the same time.  Came here when we weren’t in the hotel room fucking like bunnies.”

Danny snorts slightly.   “Thank you for that.”

“That break, that leave together, was the first time I thought maybe,” Steve says, ignoring Danny.  “Maybe I’d found someone to spend the rest of my life with.  That leave, sitting here at the river, my coat around her shoulders because it was colder than it is now…  I thought maybe I found someone I could actually stand being with forever.  Spend the rest of my life with.”

It hurts probably more than it should to hear, so Danny looks away, blowing on his hot chocolate.  “Hmm.”

“It’s over Danny,” Steve says softly.  “Well and truly, done.  I’m done with it.  I’m not even sure it was ever what I thought it was, when it comes to her.   I think it was doomed before it even started.  The nature of the booty call beginning.  The favors traded in sex.  Scratch my back I scratch yours.  We learned how to detach ourselves from each other but I don’t think we ever learned how to hold onto each other.”

“Why,” Danny asks, looking over at him.  “Why take me here?  To this spot, that reminds you of her.”

“Didn’t you just take me to your one year anniversary spot that you had with Rachel,” Steve asks, laughing and giving Danny a look.  “Because I thought maybe, if I took you to this place that was special to me and Cath…  I thought, if it still made me sad.  Listen you said you wouldn’t be sad because I make you happy.  I just thought maybe if we came here to this place and I got sad.  Despite you, because, you  _ do _ make me happy, Danny, more than…  If I got sad anyway, I’d know that it was her I wanted to be here with and not you.”

Danny swallows, casting his eyes down.  “O… kay.”

“It didn’t,” Steve says, leaning back on the bench, closer to Danny than he had been moments before.  “It brings back memories, and maybe some of them are bittersweet, but I’m not sad.”

Danny looks at him. “No?”

“No,” Steve says, grinning at him.  A real grin.  A Steve McGarrett, conquer the world in time to catch the UH game on television grin.   “Know why Danno?”

“I…”  Danny shakes his head, feeling lost and confused and not a little bit terrified of just where exactly this conversation is going.  “Couldn’t even begin to guess.”

“Because it’s over, Danny.  It’s over, and I’m done, but more than that?”  Steve reaches over and takes Danny’s free hand in his, cupping it between his.  “You.  Because of you, Danny.”

“Because of me what, Steven,” Danny asks, wary and unwilling to allow that sliver of hope in his heart develop even a little.  “Because of me, why?”

“Because you make me happy,” Steve says.  “And I know.  I know I haven’t been lately.  I’ve been.  I’ve just been angry, and mean, because.  To you.”  He frowns then, looking away.  “And I do know, Danny.  I know that I was being ugly, specifically to you.  I don’t know why, I don’t know if I was testing you or.  Or maybe it was because I just knew i could. I could…  I could be ugly to you and you’d stay.”  He laughs, squeezing Danny’s hand a bit overly hard for a moment before loosening his grip.  “Sounds pretty awful when I say it like that.”

“Everyone does that,” Danny says softly.  “Punish the ones we’re closest to when we feel like shit.  It’s just human nature or something.”

“God Danny, it really fucked me up.”

Danny clears his throat, unable to rip his eyes away from where Steve held his hand between his own two markedly bigger ones.  “What, the liver?” 

Steve laced his fingers through Danny’s.  “You were right.  We needed a pause.  The thing is, I never objected to your premise.”

“My premise.”

Steve nodded, looking at him.  “Time off.  Taking a break.  Hitting pause.  I never objected to it.”

Danny laughs.  “You did though.  Loudly.”  He nods, gesturing even though Steve’s got his hand in his own, jerking Steve’s hand along with his.  “You were pretty angry about it.”

“Because Danny,” Steve sighs.  He shrugs.  “It made me feel weak.”

“Weak?”

“That I wanted a pause.  That I…  Danny, I want.  I want more than a pause.”  Steve takes a deep breath and looks up into Danny’s eyes.  “I have moments where i think.  I think just what if.  What if I didn’t go back.  What if I just quit.  Sell the house.  Find a house in the woods, maybe consulting work.  By phone.  By computer.   Part of me was afraid if I took this pause with you, I’d never want to unpause.”

It’s Danny’s turn to pull Steve’s hand towards him, tightening their grip on one another.  “That’s not weak, Steve.  That’s, again,  _ human _ .”  Danny laughs and jostles Steve’s hand in his.  “You  _ are _ allowed to be human, you know that right?”

“Why’s it gotta be so hard all the time, Danny?  Huh?   _ All the time _ ?”  

Danny shakes his head.  “I don’t know babe.  But you know what makes it easier? What makes it bearable?”

Steve nods, looking out at the river like maybe it’s got the answers.  “The people we save.  The lives that aren’t lost because of us.”

“No.   That’s, yes, that’s…”  Danny laughs.  “That’s part of it, but no.  Us.  Five O.  You, specifically, for me.  You make it bearable for me. Because when the shit goes down I look over and there you are, right with me.”  He snorts then, gestures towards Steve’s person.  “Or well, ahead of me, jumping off tall buildings and directly into bullets, but you’re right there.  You’re always there  _ with _ me.”

“It really fucked me up, Danno,” Steve says, his voice wavering just slightly, and if Danny looks close enough he can see tears in Steve’s eyes.  “Dying.  I died.  I was dead.  I was sure of it.  And I… part of me felt relieved.”

“I know, you warned me.  You told me.  You said, I’m gonna die, Danny.”  Danny swallows but pushes forward.  “And I hear it on repeat in my head every god damned night.”

“Fuck,” Steve says, hanging his head.  “I’m sorry Danny.”

Danny laughs, shrugging.  “It is what it is.  We all have our battle scars.”  He bumps his elbow into Steve’s.  “Ours even match.”

“I’ve been angry and I haven’t been very fair,” Steve says, so quiet Danny has to strain to hear him.  “And I think part of that anger, Danny, was…  Was, I think, in that moment?  I was ready to die.”

Danny lets out a breath, closing his eyes, not paying any mind to the tear that leaks out of his eye.  “Fuck, Steve.”

“I was relieved.  I’m…  _ tired _ .  I’m  _ sad. _  I’m… don’t, I mean, I know what you’re gonna say, but, I’ve felt so alone since Catherine left after Kono’s wedding.  And I didn’t.”  He sighs, loudly.  “I didn’t know, okay.  I didn’t know, sometimes I’m the last to understand things about myself.  To get why I feel a certain way.  And maybe that’s the part about you that I’m most jealous of.”

Danny snorts, opens his eyes.  “Jealous.  Of me?  What in the world for?”

“Because you grew up in a house where you talk about your feelings.  You talk about every single feeling you have under the sun.  You… you understand yourself better than I ever have.  You wouldn’t have been so stupid about your own feelings.”

“What feelings,” Danny asks, because Steve is talking in circles and not clarifying and it’s driving him mad.

“I think I put everything on Catherine in a way that wasn’t very fair or truthful.  I think I felt like she was my best shot at happy.  I think I felt she was… she  _ got _ me.  She.  I’ve known her so long, and it was easy with her, it was comfortable, and I thought.  Well she’s that girl.”  He looks at Danny.  “She’s who I spend my life with.  It felt like it was fate.”

Danny nods, and his heart aches.  “Sure.”

“Except.  I never asked myself if she’s who made me happy.”  Danny looks over and locks eyes with him as Steve continues.  “I never asked myself if she felt right. If she… if I could even stand the thought of living the rest of my life without her.  If I could bear the thought of her being gone.  I never asked myself…”  He takes a deep breath and lets it out.  “If it was her, or the idea of what we had.  Could have.  Would have had.”

Danny can scarcely take a breath.  “And if you do.  If you ask yourself those questions.”

“Here.  Today.  This… pause,” Steve says, and Danny resists the urge to beat him upside his head for jumping around so damn much, but Steve holds his gaze and doesn’t waver so Danny doesn’t either.  “Maybe it’s not the pause I needed.  Maybe it’s.  Maybe it’s you.”  

“Me.”

Steve squeezes Danny’s hand.  “Maybe it was always you.  Because I cannot begin to imagine my life without you.  Letting you go.  Because you feel right in every other conceivable way, that it only makes sense that you’d feel right sitting here next to me, holding my hand, on the River Thames, the moon above us and everything else just fading into fucking nothing because Danny…. Swear to God Danny, you are the  _ only _ thing that matters.”

Danny blinks and clears his throat.  “Me, uh.  Me?”

Danny sucks in a breath just before Steve’s lips find his own, Steve’s right hand cupping his cheek, his left squeezing Danny’s hand between them.  The kiss is slow, gentle.  Soft and full of promise.  It’s everything Steve hasn’t been since before Catherine left him for good.  Light and easy and everything Danny wanted it to be.  

“Oh.”  Danny swallows and pulls back to look at Steve.  “Me, then.”

“You,” Steve says, nodding.

Danny closes his eyes and breathes with Steve for a few minutes, their foreheads together.  

“Us,” he says, something loosening in his chest finally.

“Always,” Steve says

Danny brings their clasped hands together up to brush a kiss over Steve’s knuckles.  “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr here under [@lovethesnark](http://lovethesnark.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Fanfiction Website  
> MOST of my fic is not on AO3, though all of my H5O and beyond is as AO3 didn't exist yet and it was too much to archive. It can be found on my website at [LoveTheSnark.com](http://www.lovethesnark.com).


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